The Harry Potter Chronicles
by Dark.Celeste777
Summary: The Battle of Hogwarts was a huge mark of Wizarding History. And the boy who finished it - legendary. After years of uncertainty, and a future filled with bleakness, Harry Potter now has his future in his own hands. Starting from the day after the battle until the moment Harry is helping his second son onto the Hogwarts Express, what will the three get up to? Rated M for later
1. Ron's Plan

Harry climbed the decrepit staircases of Hogwarts, the tiredness in his limbs turning his bones to cold stone. Ron and Hermione had offered to accompany him to Gryffindor tower, but he had declined, preferring to spend some time alone to reflect on what had just occurred - the moment in history he had caused. Voldemort was dead and he, Harry, had killed him. The horror and fear he had caused over his past half a century, stripped from him in an instant, his power and glory ripped from him showing the world who he truly was. A man as scared of death as any mortal man who craved immortality, a power none can truly posses.

Harry paused in the corridor, just before the portrait of the Fat Lady as the full scope of the situation fell upon him. Voldemort was dead. No more worrying about who was behind every corner; no more fearing to walk down a street; no more having to worry about whether or not he would live to the next day. Finally, he was free to live. He could live! He could find happiness without worrying about it being destroyed; he could openly love someone without the fear of them being used. He had something he hadn't had before, something he'd wanted. He had a future before him that only he could decide where it went.

What did it matter if he slept for three days, sleeping away this weariness? He had that time. He finally had it.

He approached the Fat Lady's portrait. Aside from a few chunks of missing wall around it and a few tears, it was fine. She was there, looking all hot and bothered, Harry assumed because of the state of her portrait.

"Password?" she asked, her eyebrow raised slightly and a hint of a smirk.

"Er..." Harry rooted to the spot, suddenly aware that he did not, in fact, know the password. "I've been...er... away."

The Fat Lady laughed and swung forward to Harry's utter astonishment.

"I know dear, I watched you on the way up. Congratulations! I hear you ended You-Know-Who. Very brave!"

Harry fidgeted but merely smiled and climbed through the hole. It didn't look as though anything had changed in the common room, aside from the notice board, which had several old notice's that had someone become so dishevelled they were impossible to read, and some had ended up in the fire, the blacked burnt scraps visible at the edge of the grate. Harry smiled to himself and climbed up to his bed, ready for a good night and a day's sleep.

"Harry!"

Harry opened his eyes and instantly regretted it. The sun was shining in from the opposite window almost directly in his eyes. He figured it must have been late in the morning . Ron, Hermione and Neville were by his bedside table, each looking as though they'd been awake for hours. Ron and Hermione were holding hands and Neville was holding a letter. Harry reached for his glasses while Neville handed him the letter.

"It's from Hestia Jones."

"Hestia...oh!" Harry stared at the envelope, wondering whether or not to open it. He looked at Ron and Hermione. Ron shrugged, but Hermione said, "Open it Harry. You'll want to know eventually."

Harry very much doubted this, but opened it anyway, read it and crumpled it into a ball.

"Well, the Dursley's are alright." He said, standing up, not entirely sure what he felt about that. "Though I don't know about Hestia and Diggle, they may need time to recover." Ron laughed.

"C'mon mate, let's go to the common room. Kreacher is bringing you up some food."

Harry's stomach grumbled appreciatively at the thought. He followed the three downstairs. Despite how many Gryffindor students had fought in the battle, the common room looked deserted. He mentioned this to Ron.

"Most of them left yesterday - went home to recover. They'll be back in August though, helping to fix all this." Ron looked out of the window as below the cobblestones were fighting one another to try get back into place. "Though we shouldn't have to do much - the castle is enchanted, it should fix itself over time."

"How did you know that?" Hermione asked, looking suspicious. Ron's ears turned red.

"Well, you kept quoting 'Hogwarts: A History' so I read Bills copy at his place, to, erm..."

Hermione looked dumbfounded. Harry and Neville shared a look and immediately changed the conversation.

"Some parents whose kids stayed have found a place in Hogsmeade to stay. The teachers have been in the Great Hall whenever they have been awake, planning for several different things and co-ordinating with Kingsley Shacklebolt." Neville studied Harry momentarily before saying, "I reckon you're getting off lightly right now, but give it time. No doubt you'll have interviews coming up in a few days; the whole Wizarding world will want to know what happened."

Harry grimaced and sat down heavily in the large armchair by the fire, Ron and Hermione took the sofa. Neville remained standing, with his hands in his pockets.

"I'm going down to the Entrance Hall, McGonagall needs volunteers to help clean out the Carrow's study." He clapped Harry on the back and waved at the other two. As he disappeared out of the portrait hole, a loud crack emanated from the room as Kreacher appeared before them, bowing low, with a silver tray balance precariously in his hands.

"Morning Master Harry," he said, whipping off the lid to the platter to reveal a full English breakfast for 3 with tea. "I trust you slept well?"

"Very well thanks Kreacher," Harry said, taking a plate and a mug."How are you – and the other house elves?"

Kreacher was handing Ron and Hermione their food and his ears quivered slightly. "Everyone is good, but Hogwarts is so damaged. We don't know if we'll be able to get it ready in time for next term."

"We'll be helping." Hermione declared, as though this was yet another SPEW assignment they should take on board, though this time Harry and Ron did not protest.

"Absolutely!" Ron cried, before ripping one of his sausages in half and devouring it in one swallow. Hermione looked at him half in revulsion and half admiration. Harry already had a full spoon of beans in his mouth but he nodded to show he too would help. Kreacher smiled and tended to the fire while they ate, silence save for the sound of chewing and the odd drinking of tea. When Harry had cleaned his plate Kreacher turned to him.

"Can Kreacher get you anything else Master Harry?"

"Thanks Kreacher but I'm good," he handed him his empty plate, only just registering how hungry he must have been. Ron and Hermione handed Kreacher their plates. Kreacher stacked them on the tray and bowed.

"Just tell me if you need anything Master," he said and with another bow to the three of them and a genuine smile of warmth, he disappeared with another loud CRACK!

Ron turned to Harry.

"Now what mate?" he asked, but it was Hermione who replied.

"My parents!" she said, her voice carefully controlled. Harry and Ron shared a momentarily puzzled look, until they remembered.

"Australia!" Ron said, putting his arm around her. "Blimey! Well, we'll go get them. We can track them down. After traipsing all over England looking for Horcruxes it'll be nice to go to Australia and find people!"

Hermione began crying into his shoulder. Ron threw Harry a desperate look, but he had nothing to offer. Ron stroked her hair. "It'll be alright Hermione, watch. You'll see. We'll go to Australia now and..."

"Now?" repeated Hermione and Harry, both in very different tones.

"But I don't even know where they could be!"

"I don't have a passport!"

"Passport?" echoed Ron, he muttered it again and then shook his head, muttering something about Muggles. "We'll Apparate. You still have the bag right Hermione?" She nodded weakly. "And Harry do you think you could ask Kreacher to get us some food to go?"

"I guess..."

"Great, we'll leave in an hour."


	2. Mr and Mrs Wilkins

The Australian sun beat down upon the golden sand, the sea gently lapping at the shore. Children with buckets and spades played in the shallows, while adults laid upon blankets stretched under the skies taking advantage of the unusually warm autumn weather. Harry tiptoed around the blankets, leading the way along the beach while Ron and Hermione followed on, stopped occasionally to scoop the sand from between their toes. Up ahead, a small piece of tarmac joined the beach to the road and Harry sighed with silent, happy, relief.

"Let's take a break mate!" Harry turned around to see Hermione sat on the sand and Ron crouching beside her. Both looked flustered in the brightness; Hermione slightly green. Harry nodded and sat on Hermione's other side. Hermione was staring out at the ocean, Ron studying her looking worried. Ron caught Harry's eye and rested his hands over Hermione's gently disengaging her fingers from the bag. Harry caught the bag before it fell, and rummaged through it retrieving the sandwiches Kreacher had packed for them. He passed one to Ron and Hermione and took one for himself, taking a small bite out of it.

They ate in silence, none of them really hungry. After the crumbs had disappeared and they'd each taken a hearty swig of cold water they sat staring at the horizon, both Ron and Harry watching Hermione through the corner of their eyes.

"What if I can't lift the spell?" Hermione's voice shook and was barely above a whisper.

"Nonsense!" Ron said immediately, cupping Hermione's chin and gently turning her face so she could see his eyes. "You got one hundred and twelve percent on our first Charms exam." Both Harry and Hermione's jaw dropped. "You can do this Hermione. We know you can."

Hermione turned to look at Harry, who nodded to show his agreement. Hermione closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and stood up, Ron and Harry scrambling to follow her. She strode toward the street opening, and turned up the road, half sprinting towards the second street. Ron and Harry caught up with her when she stopped at the street corner, staring at the house on the left. Ron stuck his hand into his pocket and brought out the piece of paper with an address and directions hastily scribbled on it.

"999 Grange Road." Ron confirmed, putting an arm over Hermione's shoulder while Harry rummaged in the bag again.

When they'd arrived in Australia, they'd spent 3 days Apparating all over the country, trying to find where Mr and Mrs Wendell Wilkins were living. After teaching Ron how to use a phonebook, several visits to information centres, a nasty bite from a poisoned spider, a rather awkward visit to the Department of Immigration – only worked out to a very quick spell, they'd finally found them. Harry had to admit, Hermione had known how to hide her parents. Voldemort would have had to have spent the last year roaming the world to find them if he wanted them, and even then, Harry had no idea how a wizard would find a Muggle so deep in the Muggle world.

He finally found their wands, and handed them out. Hermione tucked hers into her front pocket; Ron and Harry loosely tucked them into their trousers. They headed across the road to the little quaint house.

"Ready Hermione?" asked Harry as they let themselves in through the garden gate. Hermione glanced longingly at the hydrangea bushes and rose bushes around the garden and nodded. Hermione tiptoes to the front door and tentatively rang the doorbell. It echoed in the small porch, like thunder.

"Just a minute!" came a woman's voice from inside. Hermione's eyes watered slightly as a clattering and scraping came from behind the door, which opened revealing Mrs Monica Wilkins – Mrs Granger.

Mrs Granger stared at her daughter in polite bemusement, seemingly oblivious to Hermione's painful expression, or her wand hanging loosely at her side. "Hello dear," she said, after a long pause, "May I help you?"

Hermione couldn't speak. After spending so long away from her parents, enduring the toils of the last year, the fear for her friends and her family, seeing her mother as she was now – alive, happy, and joyful –she couldn't trust herself to speak.

Harry came to her rescue.

"Sorry Ma'am," he said, cautiously approaching the door. "We got lost on the beach and we can't find our parents. Can you help us?"

"Of course!" Mrs Granger cried, throwing the door wide open and ushering them inside. The three of them crammed into the small hallway, pushed up against the staircase and the wall. But not for long; Mrs Granger ferried them into the living room and told them to sit down while she went to find some snacks and juice. Ron turned to Hermione as soon as Mrs Granger had left the room. Her eyes were wide and fearful and her hands were shaking very badly. "You can do this Hermione," he assured her, throwing his arm around her waist and giving her a tight squeeze. Harry looked around the room. It was a rather large living room; though that could have been the white and blue colour scheme of the wall. A large ornamental rug covered most of the carpeted floor, and a large bookcase took up the entire house front wall. Aside from a large sofa there were just two large armchairs next to the mahogany fireplace and a two-seat sofa finished the rectangle. No television, though Harry thought he heard one coming from the kitchen.

"Hermione, is this like your old house?"

Hermione nodded and carefully extracted her wand from her front pocket; as she did so Mrs Granger came back into the room, with a plate of cookies and three bottles of apple juice. Without looking at them she placed them on the end table.

"There you go dears," she said, turning her attention back to them, just a second too early. Hermione had gripped her wand and flared it wildly, causing Mrs Granger to scream and turn around to flee. She was at the door to the kitchen when the spell hit her. She tripped over the rug and the force of the spell pushed her into a heap on the floor.

"Mother!" Hermione screamed, running over to her and cradling her head in her lap. "Mum? Mum it's me. It's Hermione. I'm home. Mum?" Mrs Granger didn't stir. Hermione bit her lip and her voice got higher and higher. "Mum its ok, you're safe. Remember me? It's your daughter. Mum, please answer me. Mummy?" Hermione's face was streaked with tears as she stroked her mother's face, like a mother comforting a sick child.

Harry watched on, a pit growing in his stomach. Ron was crying too and hurried over to Hermione who immediately fell into his arms, sobbing.

"Hermione?" The whisper was so faint that only seeing Mrs Granger's mouth move was confirmation Harry hadn't imagined it. Hermione turned to her mother, her red, blotchy face dripping with tears.

"Mum?" she croaked.

Mrs Granger sat upright, and looked around the room, utterly bemused.

"Hermione, what on earth are...?"

Hermione threw her arms around her mother, sobbing into her shoulder. Mrs Granger patted her on the back and slowly stood up, not taking her arms off Hermione. It was only then that she realised they were not alone.

"Oh, hello." She said, frowning at Ron. "I met your father in Diagon Alley – was it five years ago?"

Ron nodded and stuck out his hand. "Ronald Weasley," Mrs Granger shook his hand and turned to Harry. Harry saw her eyes flicker to his scar and saw the comprehension light in her eyes.

"And you must be Harry Potter." Harry nodded. Mrs Granger smiled at them politely "I've heard so much about you both!" she said happily. Her smile melted from her face when she angled her face to look at the top of her daughter's head.

"Hermione Jean Granger, what have you done?"

As Hermione was still buried in her mother's shoulder and Harry felt it best if he and Ron explained what had happened but before he could the front door opened and a man's voice echoed around the house.

"Afternoon Dear! I know you said not to bother coming home for lunch, but I thought we could go to that new restaurant that just opened up?" They heard him open the cupboard under the stairs and a lot of rustling. Hermione abruptly let go of her mother and Mrs Granger looked at her daughter the way only a parent does when a child had done something wrong. Hermione shifter her feet sheepishly and brandished her wand at the door. "It saves us finding something for tea and you always complain about the dishes so..."

The living room door opened and Mr Granger stepped into the living room. He barely had time to register the unusual scene before Hermione's spell hit him straight in the face. He staggered backwards and fell onto the stairs, bouncing off the railing and coming to a rest in the narrow hallway on his back. Mrs Granger and Hermione ran to help him, the living room door closing behind them, leaving Ron and Harry in the living room.

"Well," said Ron, selecting an armchair and collapsing into it, "that went well." He rubbed his face in a futile attempt to rid the evidence of tears. Harry wiped his face with the sleeve of his jacket and sat down on the couch suddenly aware he was still holding the beaded bag. He hoped that Mrs Granger hadn't noticed.

They heard muffled voices from the hallway and some loud sobs. They both looked toward the sound, but could not think of what to do. Instead, Ron handed Harry a cookie and threw him a bottle of apple juice. Harry pondered for a moment, then unscrewed the cap and tipped half of it down his throat. The coolness was welcome after the emotional scene he'd just witnessed.


End file.
